


Monday-Wednesday-Friday

by skytramp



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Cisswap, Cunnilingus, F/F, Rule 63, Teacher-Student Relationship, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 00:32:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5354135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skytramp/pseuds/skytramp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>From the outside, it wasn’t hard to see why she did it. Harasawa was beautiful, in a very obvious way, and despite the fact that she was at least forty years old if she was a day, a good percentage of her male students had made their interest lewdly clear. When Imayoshi made the decision to follow in their footsteps, if not their methods, she knew she had to do it differently.</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	Monday-Wednesday-Friday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PeopleCoveredInFish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeopleCoveredInFish/gifts).



> HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAY TO RYN!!! I KNOW YOU LIKE LESBIANS I KNOW YOU LIKE IMAHARA AND I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS

The first time, in Harasawa’s office just after 4PM, when Imayoshi draped herself over the desk to kiss the side of her neck and Harasawa gasped, Imayoshi knew her plan worked. It had been fairly simple, to snare the professor in her net, now she simply had to drag her back to shore. 

Imayoshi never kissed her on the mouth. She stepped around the edge of the small metal desk, careful to avoid the lamp which was the only illumination in the windowless room, and unbuttoned the top two buttons of Harasawa’s shirt. She kissed over her shoulder, not leaving any marks, but nibbling at the bumps of her collarbones, kissing over the taut muscles at the base of her neck, she moved again, kissing up the side of her throat and underneath her ear. Harasawa’s hands were on her own knees gripping slightly, digging into the thicker fabric of her skirt, but she didn’t protest, she hadn’t said a word since Imayoshi first moved. 

“See you Wednesday, Sensei.” Imayoshi said with a smile, wiping the saliva from the edge of her mouth. Harasawa didn’t even manage a response before the door closed behind her. 

____ 

From the outside, it wasn’t hard to see why she did it. Harasawa was beautiful, in a very obvious way, and despite the fact that she was at least forty years old if she was a day, a good percentage of her male students had made their interest lewdly clear. When Imayoshi made the decision to follow in their footsteps, if not their methods, she knew she had to do it differently. Sure, the flattery would work, but the lewd suggestions needed to be subtler, smoother, and she knew she had to take the initiative. 

The first time Imayoshi approached Harasawa, it was after one of her 9AM lectures. She stood at the front of the auditorium, gathering her papers in preparation to leave while her students filed out. Imayoshi herself usually sat in the second row, paying apparent rapt attention, if only for the way Harasawa’s gaze would linger slightly on her, the eye contact they could briefly share.. Chemistry wasn’t a difficult subject, and as this was an introductory class, she could have taken the final with her eyes closed from the first day. 

“Harasawa-sensei?” She asked, keeping her voice soft as she approached. She’d always been told she had a sweet voice, too quiet most of the time, but that’s what she wanted them to think. Imayoshi learned sometime around puberty that it's much easier to win if everyone underestimated you. 

“Ah--” Harasawa looked up and pushed a strand of curly hair out of her face. She was probably searching for Imayoshi’s name in her memory of the class roster, but Imayoshi, politely, didn’t give her the chance to flounder. 

“Imayoshi Shouichi.” She bowed her head a little, just enough to not be disrespectful, and Harasawa mirrored it. Imayoshi tried not to acknowledge the blatant relief in her eyes at not having to remember her student’s name. 

“Imayoshi-chan, how can I help you?” For someone who was a University Professor, Harasawa sounded remarkably confused that a student would approach her, though maybe it was just Imayoshi she questioned. 

Imayoshi took a step forward, closing the distance between them until she was just on the edge of uncomfortably close. She leaned a hip against the small table which held Harasawa’s teaching materials. “I’d like to make an appointment…” She bent forward, letting her loose hair fall over her shoulder and into her face before looking up again. “Do you have office hours, sensei? I’d like to discuss…” she picked a topic at random, and thought idly that maybe she could have planned the most suggestive chemistry topic in advance, “covalent bonds.. Can we meet soon?” 

“Covalent...bonds?” Harasawa replied. She looked a little stunned, and cleared her throat before taking a step back, as if distance would make things more clear. Imayoshi watched her move with interest. She watched how Harasawa’s white dress shirt, thin enough to see the tank top underneath, clung to her frame, watched the way her pinstripe skirt fell to against her knees, a respectable length, despite the absolutely vulgar way it stretched over her hips. 

Harasawa cleared her throat before trying to speak more, and Imayoshi slowly moved her eyes up to Harasawa’s face before smiling again. “My…My office hours start at four.” 

Imayoshi kept smiling and nodded, pushing her hair behind both ears and the frames of her glasses. She knew Harasawa’s office hours before she asked, of course, the whole class should, they were on the syllabus. “Thank you, sensei.” She stood up straight and pulled down her shirt to keep the hem even with the waistband of her pants. If it also had the effect of drawing Harasawa’s eyes to her collarbones, to the slight bit of red fabric that was the edge of her bra, well that was surely a coincidence.

 

___

 

During office hours, Imayoshi learned the taste of Harasawa’s skin and the plan was definitely worth the trouble. 

___ 

 

She did see her Wednesday. Imayoshi sat in her normal spot, second row next to the aisle, arriving just as class was starting. Harasawa began her lecture, shushing the students in their seats and Imayoshi and shifted her hips. It wasn’t hard to maneuver so that her bare legs were visible from where Harasawa lectured from, and her skirt, while not short, was rendered nigh invisible by how she crossed her legs. She rested her hand on her knee, tapping her fingers impatiently, and waited. 

It didn’t take long for Imayoshi to see Harasawa’s gaze drifting. She focused on the powerpoint presentation behind her, teaching the class the finer points of basic chemical equation balancing, but every time she turned to face the class her eyes went first to Imayoshi, then to the hand on her knee, before she forced herself to look away. 

Imayoshi’s smile didn’t falter the entire lecture, and her cheeks were sore by the end of it. She left the lecture hall without approaching Harasawa. 

___

Imayoshi was early for Friday morning’s lecture, slipping into the auditorium just as the previous class filed out and sinking as deep as she could into the sparsely cushioned seat. Harasawa came in next, stepping in a side door and when her eyes fell on Imayoshi she walked forward with a purpose, fire in her eyes. 

“Office hours.” Harasawa said, under her breath but loud enough that Imayoshi could hear from where Harasawa loomed over her. “4PM.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Imayoshi replied with a smile, and she almost laughed when Harasawa reeled back in surprise. 

Class began and Imayoshi noticed how hard Harasawa was trying to keep her eyes off her. She looked at the powerpoint, looked at the papers in her hands, and then stared somewhere in the direction of the back row. Imayoshi almost raised her hand to ask a question, if only to force her to look at her, but it wasn’t part of the plan. She couldn’t completely alienate her yet. 

Imayoshi lingered only a minute or so after class ended, long enough to catch Harasawa’s eyes and offer her a small wave. 

___

Imayoshi did go to the office hours, walking into the building just before 5pm. The bright fluorescent lights of the hallway shined off the linoleum floors and Harasawa’s office door was open, indicating no one else needed to meet with the professor. Inside the room was dark by contrast, only her desk lamp lighting the room. Imayoshi stuck her head in, just past the frame, Harasawa was so startled she nearly knocked a stack of papers from her desk. 

“Hello, sensei.” She crooned, and allowed Harasawa a few seconds to recover from her surprise before stepping all the way into the room. 

“Imayoshi-chan. Er, thank you for coming.” Her voice was strained, and, while she didn’t stand, she sat up as straight in her chair as she possibly could. 

Imayoshi shut the door behind her. “Well, I haven’t done that yet.” 

She didn’t wait for Harasawa to respond this time, moving with purpose around the edge of the desk until she could pull her to her feet by the front of her shirt. Imayoshi wasn’t a tall girl, she was shorter than Harasawa by a few centimeters, but what she lacked in size she made up for in enthusiasm, and it wasn’t hard to get Harasawa seated on the edge of her desk with her legs spread wide enough that Imayoshi could stand between them. 

Imayoshi kissed her neck again, this time lingering along her jaw, barely pressing gentle kisses against the skin of her throat, nose catching on the chain of the necklace she wore. Harasawa’s hands were on Imayoshi’s sides, squeezing until it almost hurt but when Imayoshi moved Harasawa held her fast, keeping her from moving away. 

She laughed against the skin of Harasawa’s neck and slid her hands up her legs, inching the skirt up her thighs as she went. Imayoshi wasn’t sure what she expected, but the skin of Harasawa’s thighs was smooth, muscles toned. She yanked Harasawa forward by the backs of her knees until she was barely balanced on the edge of the desk and dropped to her knees. 

Harasawa gasped before Imayoshi even touched her, and she was panting by the time Imayoshi shoved her skirt up over her hips and touched her through her underwear. She wasn’t noticeably wet yet, but Imayoshi kissed the inside of her thigh and moved her fingers faster, pushing the fabric against her clit until the muscles in her legs were taut and her legs squeezed in against Imayoshi’s shoulders. 

She could feel the wetness now, how her underwear was damp and Imayoshi moved her fingers from her clit to pull the fabric tight against her labia. She could just see the outline in the dim light. Imayoshi kissed the inside of Harasawa’s thighs again, moving from one leg to the other and farther up until she could kiss against the fabric of her underwear. 

Harasawa moaned and then immediately cut herself off. “I--Imayoshi.” She said in a shaky voice. 

Imayoshi pulled back enough to look up. She could just see Harasawa’s face past her breasts. She raised her eyebrows in a silent question. 

Harasawa’s hands shook when she took off Imayoshi’s glasses and set them on the desk beside her. 

Imayoshi smiled. “Thank you, sensei.” She said, and moved down again, lifting what was left of Harasawa’s skirt even further up and licking a wet line from bottom to top, before pushing her tongue hard against Harasawa’s clit. Harasawa squirmed, legs bumping against Imayoshi in an attempt to close, to lessen the overwhelming sensation. Imayoshi sunk lower on her knees and hefted both of Harasawa’s legs onto her shoulders, pushing them almost flush against her ears and she moved forward again to suck on her clit through her underwear. It was hot and almost uncomfortable but Harasawa was leaning back on her hands, pushing her hips forward against Imayoshi’s mouth with every lick. 

Imayoshi liked how out of control Harasawa was already, but it wasn’t nearly enough. She pulled back just far enough to hook her arms under Harasawa’s legs and reach up towards the waistband of her underwear to pull them down. She had to back up further, dropping one of the legs on her shoulder in order to get the underwear off one leg, pulling it over the high heeled shoe she was still wearing. 

She wasted no time moving back in, throwing Harasawa’s legs back over her shoulder while her underwear still hung from an ankle. She sucked hard on her clit, rolling her tongue over it as it twitched slightly in her mouth. She could feel how wet Harasawa was against her chin and cheeks and she pushed further forward, licking around her labia again, this time without the fabric barring the taste. 

Instead of fingering her, Imayoshi wrapped her arms around the outside of Harasawa’s thighs again to grab her hips and pull her further forward. Harasawa was hardly on the desk at all anymore, as she supported herself on her hands and the knees on Imayoshi’s shoulders. She wanted Harasawa to ride her face, and with a little encouragement it seemed she was happy to do so. 

Harasawa let out a small whimpering sound at almost every movement Imayoshi made with her tongue, and the noises were getting louder. She pulled back just enough that she thought she could be heard. 

“Someone might hear you, _sensei_.” Imayoshi said, drawing out the title with as much humor in her voice as she dared. 

Her whimper turned to a full on moan. _How dirty,_ Imayoshi thought, _she wants to be caught._ Imayoshi brought her hand back between Harasawa’s legs and pushed two fingers into her without warning. Harasawa’s breathing caught and Imayoshi curled up her fingers, pushing in and out quickly. 

“You want someone to hear you, Sensei?” Imayoshi mocked, biting the inside of Harasawa’s thigh as she bucked against her fingers. “You want someone to see you riding my face, you want them to catch you getting fucked by your poor student on her knees?” 

Imayoshi couldn’t see her face but she could see she was moving, maybe nodding, and her breasts were heaving beneath her shirt. There would have to be a next time for Imayoshi to see those more thoroughly. Maybe she could make Harasawa come just using her nipples. 

She was getting close now, and Imayoshi curved her fingers and spread Harasawa’s legs wide enough so she can put her mouth back against her clit. She wiggled her tongue against it, soft, and then firmer, pushing around it with every thrust of her fingers. It was hard to keep a pattern with the way Harasawa’s hip moved but there was enough constant pressure that it only took a few more seconds. Harasawa’s legs clenched against her shoulders and her moan turned to a strangled scream muffled by her own shoulder as she came. 

Harasawa collapsed against her desk, falling backwards when her own arms couldn’t hold her anymore. Imayoshi stood up, cheeks and chin still slick with Harasawa’s juices, and leaned over the desk to kiss her on the mouth. She couldn’t really taste much beyond what was already in her mouth, but the lazy way Harasawa’s mouth opened for her, how she sucked at her own taste with no hesitation was enough to make Imayoshi’s own knees go weak. Imayoshi leaned back and smiled before wiping her mouth against the fabric of Harasawa’s white shirt. 

She took a step back and pulled her hair down from its bun. She flipped the hair over her head to put it up again and smooth any messiness created by the friction of Harasawa’s legs. Next time she should wear her hair down, see if Harasawa would like to pull it. 

Harasawa still hadn’t sat up, she was laying on a haphazard pile of papers with her panties hanging from one ankle and her other shoe on the floor. She looked like a mess and Imayoshi stifled a little laugh as she crossed to the door. 

“See you on Monday, Harasawa-sensei.” She said brightly, as if she was completely unaffected, and left the office, closing the door gently behind her.

A boy was sitting in one of the chairs outside Harasawa’s office, his backpack on his lap, and a blush on his face. Clearly he had been in line for office hours and gotten more than he bargained for. 

“I think Harasawa-sensei is done for the day.” Imayoshi said, throwing him a wink as she walked past him and outside the building.


End file.
